Had I Known
by SweetyBird282
Summary: "Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend. Somewhere along in the biterness, and I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life" Warning: charachter death, graphic language and angst.


**This is heavily based on a post I saw on tumblr ( post/22916270069/i-would-have-stayed-up-with-you-all-night-had-i) and I just felt like writing a story to go with, which this is :)**

**Oh, and it's really angsty and certain things are described VERY graphically (or was supposed to be at least) so yeah, you've been warned.**

* * *

Logan bit back his tears. He didn't want to cry. Not now. _It doesn't hurt that bad_, he told himself, not believing the lie one bit. He slumped back down on the couch in his dressing room, groaning as his back hit the soft, cold leather. He gently rubbed a hand across his eyelids and dragging it gently up across his eyebrows. His life was so messed up. His friends and co-workers were all pissed at him. He hadn't been able to preform his job properly over the past two weeks, he had been a little cranky and snapped a lot. What they didn't know was that his behavior descended from a severe lack of sleep.

Every time Logan closed his eyes at night, all his troubles would come creeping back into his mind. He was insecure about so many things, and though he pretended to rise above the hate the band members got, it really did hit him rather harshly. He had tried hard not to let it get to him, but he had been bullied a lot as a kid and his mind was still a little sensitive to hatred. His tendency to take in all the horrid things thrown at him was a skill he desperately wanted to rid himself of.

Logan could lie in bed for hours, tossing and turning, his mind racing with all the hateful comments they would get. His mind would stray off to his reflection and how it seemed to repulse him more and more after each day passing.

But Logan had been strong; he had managed for a long time to tell the voices in his head that there was nothing wrong with him, that he was fine. It turned out he could only fight the voices so long. And when he came to the realization that he was gay, his mental walls came tumbling down. Crumpling at his feet, never to be restored again.

So, he was left with two-three hours of sleep each day; far too little for him to function like normal, causing him to drive his friends away.

Today was even worse than normal. He had had a huge fight with Kendall, about what he couldn't quite remember, but there had been screaming, verbal assaults ricocheting through the room, slamming of doors and punches would have been thrown if Kendall hadn't been strictly pacifistic. The fight ended when Kendall had stormed off, leaving Logan behind with an even gloomier mood. He couldn't even keep his friends.

It almost felt like a life-time ago, a life time of sheer pain and loneliness, but had in reality been forty-three minutes.

Logan was called back to set again, forcing him to push his depressive thoughts away for him to deal with later. He sucked in a deep breath, wanting them to inflate properly, but they never did. It really was as if he couldn't breathe properly. There was an ever-present stinging pain in his chest, nearly paralyzing his lungs and he knew by now that it was nothing but the physical recreation of his psychological pain. Logan let out a heavy sigh at the thoughts flooding his mind, and forced on a smile. He double-checked his smile in the mirror above his desk, making sure it looked somewhat natural. It did, it really did, but if one looked closely one could tell the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. A fragment of his internal pain was evident in the deeps of his eyes.

With another sigh, he left his dressing room, knowing he wouldn't get any sleep that night.

Logan was right. He was unable to sleep. As the clock struck 3:41 a.m. he officially gave up. He sat upright, taking his phone in his hand. His mind had been spinning with all thought he had forced away all day, now crashing over him like a tidal wave. Pulling him under, dragging him into the cold, dark deeps of nothingness.

The usually intense pain had numbed down until he could no longer feel. It was in that moment he realized he needed desperately to talk to someone about it. He wasn't sure if he could take this any longer; life. The pain. Everything.

He picked up his phone from the nightstand, scrolling through his contact list, landing on his one ray of light; Kendall. He pressed the blonde's name, dialing his number.

A fifteen-minute drive away, Kendall stirred out of his warm dreamland at the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned and picked it up, squinting his eyes at the bright light radiating off of the electronic device. His eyes landed on the time, 3:47 a.m. way too early for anyone to call him. Especially Logan. Kendall nearly gritted his teeth. Why was he calling him at this hour? Whatever it was, Kendall thought it could wait until the next day. If he was right, Logan was just calling to apologize for the fight, and Kendall was really not in the mood for it now.

The ringing stopped, and he was nearly enveloped in the comfort of dreamland when the phone went off again. Groaning once again, Kendall pressed decline and turned his phone off, truly appreciating the alarm clock he had been gifted, so he wasn't relying on his phone for it.

Logan let his phone fall from his hand as he realized the blonde wasn't going to pick up; he was purposely evading his calls. _That's it_, Logan thought defeatedly, _every spec of light is gone from my life. I gave nothing._

A silent tear fell from his eye, a shaky breath escaping his lips as his fingers wrapped themselves around the cool metal of the trigger. He pulled the pitch black blessing-in-disguise to his chest, letting it rest above his heart. Logan tried once again to re-inflate his lungs, to no avail and clamped down the little piece of metal. A loud bang rippled through the still of the night, knocking the wind out of him.

He should have been crying out in pain, but he couldn't feel it – the pain. Tear after tear fell from his eyes. He could feel the sticky, warm substance trickling from his wound. He could feel his heart beat slow down, and the blood in his veins moving slower. His eyes fluttered shut and he felt his last breath escaping his lips, but there was never any pain. With one last thud, his heart stopped, draining the last bit of life from his body.

* * *

Carlos, Kendall and James were all confused as to why Logan didn't show up to work the day after, or answer his phone for that matter. As they were released from set, they decided to head to his apartment to check on him. Their anger towards him had long since disappeared. Logan might have hit all their nerves, but he was still one of their best friends and they were all getting worried.

The three guys knocked on his door. No answer. They tried again and again, with the same result, so they searched for the spare key and unlocked the apartment. Neither of them was prepared for the sight that awaited them.

They scanned the entrance hall and living room, but Logan was nowhere in sight. Kendall then moved to his bedroom, while Carlos and James started heading towards the kitchen, only to spin around on their heels as Kendall let out a cry somewhere between horror and pain. Kendall fell to the floor, unable to fight the tears streaming from his eyes – that was the first thing Carlos and James laid eyes on; Kendall on the floor bawling his eyes out in front of Logan's bed. On a second glance, they realized Logan was in his bed with what looked like a black cloud surrounding him. It took them another second to identify the black cloud – it was blood. James was barley shaking his head in disbelief; this couldn't be happening. It just couldn't be real. Logan wasn't dead. Carlos' lip was quivering, similar thoughts running through his mind; this was nothing but a horrid nightmare he would wake up from any minute now.

But it wasn't.

Silent tears fell from Carlos' eyes as it fully hit him. One of his band mates and dearest friends was dead.

"Oh god, this is all my fault," Kendall muttered, his tone so full of self-loathing it was truly bone-chilling. "He… he called me yesterday, but I ignored him. I should have picked it up. If I had, then he would have still been alive."

Carlos walked over to the blonde, pulling him into a tight embrace, letting him sob onto his shoulder. "I would have picked up the phone if I knew how important that phone call was," Kendall whispered. His voice was so broken and pained, and just so low it was hardly there at all. Carlos tightened his grip on the blonde. "You had no way of knowing," he told Kendall, letting the silently spoken "it's not your fault" slip through his words. James was still in complete shock at seeing his friend so cold and lifeless, and… and pale. He didn't know what to do with himself, the pain washing through him was too great to handle. He acted on instinct and pulled out his phone. He didn't even know he had dialed a number until he heard Scott's voice. "H-he's," James swallowed, he couldn't bring himself to say it, it made everything so final. "He's what?" Scott asked, not sure what to think. "Dead," James muttered barley audibly. "What?"

"He's dead," James said a little louder, "Logan. He's dead. He killed himself."

That was it; James completely broke down, sobbing heavily. Logan was gone. For good.

* * *

"_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend_

_Somewhere along in the bitterness_

_I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life_," Kendall sang with so much pain in his voice it was as if he was in Logan's bedroom again. He almost broke down, his voice was quivering, and he could tell Carlos and James were going through pretty much the same.

"Now guys, I heard you did this cover for a reason. What is that?" the interviewer asked. It was a radio interview, just the three of them and the DJ. They couldn't bear to break the news to a room full of fans. It was hard enough as it was without having to see all the broken hearts. "It has a very special meaning to us," Kendall said, barley able to get the words out. "A friend of ours recently committed suicide," Carlos said, pain evident in his voice. "And he called me right before he did, but I didn't pick up and… I could have saved him," Kendall said, nearly breaking down. The interviewer was giving them a quizzical look, as if silently willing them to go on. "I-it's Logan. He's dead."


End file.
